


a gift exchange of hearts

by remembermyfic



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Rule 63, Secret Santa, Toronto Maple Leafs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remembermyfic/pseuds/remembermyfic
Summary: “It is Christmas,” Mitchy points out, sucking on a candy cane. “Maybe it’s a Secret Santa.”“Doesn’t that have to be reciprocal?”Mitchy shrugs and slides the candy cane out of her mouth with a pop. “I’d call it a secret admirer, but figured Secret Santa was less creepy.”





	a gift exchange of hearts

**Author's Note:**

> If you know them, or are them, close the window/tab. You're welcome. 
> 
> Also advent 2018. I get to share them with the world now because the girls have read them all :)

One is friendly, Morgan knows. Two is a coincidence. But when the third little gift shows up in her locker, Morgan cannot help but think there’s some sort of deliberate campaign going on here.

“It is Christmas,” Mitchy points out, sucking on a candy cane. “Maybe it’s a Secret Santa.”

“Doesn’t that have to be reciprocal?”

Mitchy shrugs and slides the candy cane out of her mouth with a pop. “I’d call it a secret admirer, but figured Secret Santa was less creepy.”

A nudge to her shoulder derails her biting response and she looks up at Jake’s very blue eyes. It’s just a fact: they’re very blue. She has no judgement on it. At all.

“Another one?” he asks, “This is three, isn’t it?”

Morgan huffs half a sigh. It’s a pleasant surprise but confusing in equal measure. “Yeah.”

“Think someone’s trying to tell you something?” he asks with a small smile.

“Like what?” Mitchy scoffs. “These are tokens – another reason I went Secret Santa, by the way. They’re not like, romantic.”

“Whoever it is, really knows Mo though,” Jake argues with surprising vehemence. “Like, the first one was those elastics right? The squiggly ones that don’t hurt, or whatever.” Morgan barely has the first sound of ‘yes’ out of her mouth before Jake’s barreling on with, “You gave the last one to JT in Carolina.”

The fact that he remembers that sends a jolt through her in a way that simultaneously feels like her world’s been upended.

“Yeah, but a toque?” Mitchy replies with another roll of her eyes. “Of her junior team to boot?”

“I loved my time in juniors,” Morgan says slowly and when she looks up at Jake, he definitely looks a little smug. Morgan feels a little like she’s been winded here. The first two gifts could easily be ‘written off’ so to speak. The springy hair ties are all the rage and yeah, one of the few that don’t snag in her hair on messy bun days. Anyone with Goggle could see her junior team and the hockey world is crazy connected, even if the gift giver hadn’t known Morgan adored her Warriors.

But this third gift – Morgan turns it over in her hands – speaks to someone who does genuinely know her, beyond just basic things. Because Morgan’s had a few guys buy her various lotions, but none of them get it. Her skin faces constant air travel, ice rinks and climate change and no feminine Bath and Body Works branded product will suffice.

“Mo. Hey.”

She doesn’t jolt, but it’s kind of a close thing. Jake’s looking at her with a sort of fond confusion. She looks down at the cream again and feels the epiphany needling at the back of her mind. “You’re right,” she says slowly.

Jake makes a questioning noise.

“Whoever it is, really knows me.”

Half of her wants to pretend the blush on his face is a figment of her imagination. But, if Jake’s right, if he’s hinting at something, the blush is a very telltale piece of evidence. She glances around, but the locker room is still too rambunctious for her to feel comfortable picking at this kind of personal conversation.

“Mo?”

She drops the lotion and reaches for his wrist. “Jake.”

His responding sharp inhale is barely audible under the general cacophony of the room, but Morgan’s paying attention. Maybe for this first time, Morgan’s really paying attention.

“It’s you.”

His arm gives him away this time, tensing in her grip. “Mo-“

“Jake.”

“Oh my god, just kiss already!”

Morgan glares at Willy across the room, but takes the opportunity to tug Jake into the hall. It is definitely no smarter of a place to have this conversation than the locker room, but it feels to Morgan a lot like a fork in the road. Something’s happening here and Morgan didn’t make the NHL by shrugging aside opportunities, even if they felt a little like she was stepping into thin air and hoping she’d survive the fall.

“It was you,” she says when they’ve ignored the catcalls of their idiot team and found a relatively quiet place in the hall. “You left all of those presents.”

He, rather infuriatingly, doesn’t respond.

Morgan tries not to huff. “Jake.”

He can’t look at her.

“So what do you want to tell me?” she asks, shaking his arm where she’s gripping his wrist. “Jake.”

“If it was?”

“You’re deflecting,” she argues and she always hates when he does that. She’s hated it since she was a rookie and Jake refused to crack himself open for her. She’d expected them to be beyond that now. “Just answer me. It’s me.”

It takes him more than a few minutes to finally answer her with a quiet, half-mumbled. “Yeah.”

She shakes his wrist again. “And?”

There’s a beat where she thinks he’s going to turtle again, he’ll deflect and she’ll be frustrated and let it go _again_ because he’s giving all of the signals that says he doesn’t want to have this conversation. But then he meets her eyes again – and honestly she has no goddamn idea what’s on her face so she has no idea why he squares his shoulders in the way that tells her he’s going to have the game of his life.

“And I want to date you.”

She’d been expecting it, but it still takes her off-guard, a bit like the hits she can take during a game. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He looks away.

Morgan takes a moment to breathe, then slides her hand down to his, weaving their fingers together. She swallows thickly when he looks back at her and says, “What did you have in mind?”

The way his face light up is the way that says Christmas has come early. There’s a split second when he steps into her space where she wonders how the hell he could want to be this close to her when she’s post-practice sweaty, but Jake doesn’t care. Jake’s never cared. Jake’s seen her at her worst and he’s still here, free hand coming up to cup the side of her neck.

“Can we start here?”

Morgan’s breath catches a little. “Yeah,” she says.

He kisses her.


End file.
